Everyone Else Is Doing It?
by Lack of Tact
Summary: "Happiness begets happiness," or so they say. Try being happy living in a run-down apartment you almost can't afford, with neighbors nosing in on shit they needn't be. My situation is less than stellar. My one escape happens to be visual novels and after finishing a certain one, something happens. Something I'm not too sure whether or not I want to believe. — Rated T - M
1. Chapter 1

**Day 1, Part 1**

 **Prologue (1/2): Not Something You Can Prepare For**

* * *

Bringing the butt of the cigarette to my mouth, I inhale sharply with a groan of dissatisfaction. My mind is racing to and fro in an attempt to comprehend the ending of this Godawful Visual Novel. Don't get me wrong; the game itself is great, _'Doki Doki Literature Club'_ left me astonished. It's just the endings — or lack thereof — that kept getting to me! There is so much left unfinished, half-assed; so much more that needs to be done! The festival went unattended; Natsuki's cupcakes needed to be remade, I needed to hang out with Sayori more! Yet, I couldn't.

The game had come to a close, Sayori staring at me through the screen with that wide smile of hers as she speaks for the remainder of the club. _"We love you, Weyland."_ The game haplessly ignores my mental plea for it to continue. The credits begin to scroll up from the bottom of my laptop's little screen and I stare blankly at each passing image. The heartwarming scenes leave a searing want in the pit of my stomach.

Despite getting the happy ending for the Nth time, I still can't help but sigh out in aggravation. The smog from my latest cigarette clouds the screen's visage for all of a moment before dissipating entirely. _This, this was the game._ Designed to make you feel empty inside after completing it. I bring my right hand to my face and fall backward on my bed; the laptop throws itself from my lap and onto the floor. I hear a resounding _thud_ and promptly ignore it. Damn thing was old anyway, would've died on its own, I don't care.

I pull my somewhat lengthy bangs back and stare at the crack in the ceiling, dangling my designated smoking hand over the edge of the bed. The lit cigarette's ashes fall onto the dirtied plate from yesterday's meal. As much as I love the game, I just wish there was more to it. Sure, the 'horror' element in it was great but I threw myself into it for VN tag alone, though. My first run through, I was expecting a silly slice-of-life story with cute characters and shit.

All I got was a rotten taste in my mouth and a permanently etched frown on my ugly mug. There's so much that could've been done differently, so much more that could've made the _excellent_ visual novel a _beautiful_ visual novel. I'm not complaining, don't look a gift horse in the mouth, but what would thing's've been like if it were a typical one? An _actual_ dating sim? That'd've been something, alright.

I turn my head left from the pillow, pulling the cigarette back to my mouth for another drag and stare at the floor below. My laptop's screen was heavily damaged from the sudden drop, various colors glared to the world. _Another_ reason on why I should get a new one, now. _Should,_ as in I would, but I'm not exactly rolling in the dough, here. I huff out a dry chuckle, smoke clearing from my lungs as I turn my head back up to the ceiling. _Did I seriously break my fuckin' computer 'cause of a game?_ Pathetic.

With a lackluster shake of my head and roll of my eyes, I pull myself upward and plant my feet against the ground. "Great start to the day, Beck. Fuckin' great." I sneer out quietly, bringing the cherry of the cigarette to my pant leg and burning it out. Flicking the burned out cancer-stick to the side — at a small mound of even _more_ cancer-sticks — I stand up with a small grunt. I probably should clean my room up, but it's not like I have guests over, at least in here, to really care.

The place is more manageable than my life, at least. With a shrug aimed at nobody but myself, I step over countless clothes that littered my bedroom's floor. Making my way downstairs, with a sniffle, I briefly go over what I want for breakfast.

I'm thinking eggs or pancakes this morning.

 **. . . . .**

Honestly, there was no reason to continue past Act 1, at least in my opinion. Sayori, regardless of my choice here, is doomed to die every time. It hurts, but it's fact. I just wish there was a way to save my little cinnamon bun _well_ before her inevitable hanging. If only the damn MC was more caring towards her, _if only._ Every other option — those present in the game, I mean — just lead to, well, _that._ He'd always come to find her in her room, that noose clenched tightly around her neck as she dangled from the ceiling.

Why in the Hell couldn't he be any quicker? Why the fuck didn't he visit her in the morning instead of halfway through the day? There are so many options one could've taken in reality to prevent it, but he took none! She even — blatantly, might I add — told him of her depression and her hurt; if it were me she spoke to, I'd've clung to her day in and out until she was all better, or at least, getting there! Weird, coming from a guy like me, but it's true. Seriously, would a pseudo-route where Sayori _doesn't_ hang herself be too much to ask? I get it was Monika's bidding and whatnot, but really. A _normal_ VN would've been just a good in my opinion.

No one would have died, there wouldn't have been a whole mess of things, and the festival finally would've been attended. Something I was secretly hoping for when I heard about the 'happy ending'. Fucking Dan Salvato, you're a Goddamned genius, but you're an asshole. Giving me the whole _'Monika became self-aware'_ bullshit. I'm pissed that you couldn't give an actual _good_ ending after that stunt you pulled, killing almost everyone off... well, _deleted_ I guess.

Ugh, this game is making me think too hard on it. Shouldn't have this much dominion inside my head; not like it was a life-changing experience for me or anything. _If I really wanted any closure, I would've downloaded that 'Monika After Story' mod._ Lazily stabbing my fork into the last bit of non-syrupy, crisp pancake, I shovel it into my mouth. _Well, before I killed my laptop at least._ But why though? The only closure that mod would give me would be with Monika, and I don't even really like her! Bah, if only there was something focusing on Sayori. Now that'd be something. Monika's cool and all, but Sayori is best girl, easily. Love me a girl with some baggage.

Monika was just that, Monika. Natsuki was a lawsuit waiting to happen, and Yuri? _Yeesh, now that's more than I'm askin' for when it comes to baggage._ Seriously, that psycho. Ain't touching that lass with a ten-foot pole. Nothing against psychos — or, in weeb-speak, _'yanderes'_ — but I'd prefer _not_ getting stabbed talking over the phone with my mother. _If she'd ever talk to me again, that is._ Despite the foul tasting dryness in my mouth, I still sourly chuckle. I don't know why, but the thought of a tall purple-haired girl stabbing me seemed darkly humorous.

"Cheese n' Rice, this game's characters. All little balls'a somethin' special, they are." I murmur, tapping my fork against the ceramic plate in thought. "Gonna go rant on Reddit about this... aa _aaand my laptop's broken._ _"_ I drop the utensil and smack the palm of my hand against my forehead. "Sonovabitch." Did I _not_ just break my laptop twenty minutes ago? Am I _that_ stupid? I silently mouth yet another swear to myself, pushing my chair — and me along with it — away from the small, two-person table.

I glance downward at my empty dish and shiver silently. My mind finally drifts from the game, but not to something good. "I _really_ have to learn how'ta make better pancakes... third set'a ash-patties this week," I mumble. Using my tongue, I try and dig out any stuck chunks of the hazardous material from my teeth. Grabbing the dish, I turn towards the sink. "Or..." I begin, raising a hand to scratch at my head. "I _could_ just do takeout again-" as quick as the words leave my mouth, I sigh. "Like _that_ didn't destroy my savings. Fuckin' moron." One _great_ idea after another; bad idea guy, that's me.

 _Can I do anything right?_

I toss the plate into the tetanus worthy sink, not thinking anything of it, and a loud crash emanates soon after. If there's anything I _am_ good at doing, it's proving those negative thoughts true. I don't even bother looking into the dip in the countertop to know I shattered yet another plate. "'Course I can't." I bring a hand up and pinch the bridge of my nose, turning my back to the counter to lean against it.

 _"Bad Luck Brian, more like Bad Luck Beck."_ With a sharp whisper to myself, I lower my hand and stare down at my feet. _When did my life come to this? A fucking nobody living in a stain calling itself an apartment floor, without a fucking job._ As pathetic as breaking my laptop over a game is, my life is more-so. There's a reason why I throw myself into those stupid visual novels. At least I'm _somebody_ in them.

Back on the thought of games, I tilt my head upward to glare at the ceiling. "Really should'a just placed my laptop next to me... instead'a dropping the thing." I give a single nod of my head at my assessment before sighing. "You're a moron, Beck. Y'know that." I don't even trouble myself with answering the rhetorical question. I push myself from the counter and push my bangs up once more.

"God, if you're an actual thing, jus' gimme a break. Please? I don't want anything else to go wrong today. Just, gimme some solace here, yeah?" I clasp my hands together and mock a prayer. I begin staring with possibly the worst set of puppy dog eyes at the ceiling. "I dunno. Let me get that job at To-Go-Froyo or something." _How do you finish a prayer? Ramen? Omen? Fuck, I dunno._ _"Amen."_ I finish with a tilt in my tone, questioning whether or not I used to the correct word.

A dull thud sounds, coming up from my room. Not the familiar sound of shattering glass or the usual creak in the roof, but something akin to a body entering through a window. My mouth drops open and my brows furrow. "Okay, I said _'a break'_ not another fucking burglar." I huff, pulling my cell phone from my pocket. Quickly tapping the three digits I not-so-rarely dial, I pull it up to my ear, preparing to tap the 'call' button.

"You have five seconds before I call the police! I'm sick of your shit, James!" I shout out. Someone yelps directly after and I blink.

That was a, ah... a very _feminine_ sound. Unless James went through a vocal surgery I was unaware of, this certainly wasn't the usual dumbass. Curiosity getting the better of me, I mull over whether or not I should go up there to confront the new home invader. That thought has a lifespan of exactly three seconds before I shake my head violently. James at least has the decency to leave after I threaten to call the police. This new person might stab me or murder me or do some unmentionable things to me. I'm not saying I'm a bad looking guy, but some people out there are crazy.

Question is, now, should I go up there just to see who it is and risk any of those possibilities or should I just call the cops? Cops, obviously, but I'm dumb as shit. I can't have them seeing my ecchi manga collection! I pocket my cell and rush up the stairs with a not-so-heroic shout of "Don't stab me, don't stab me, don't stab me!"

 **. . . . .**

"..."

 _"A-ah..."_

Neither of us speaks beside that little noise of acknowledgment of hers. All I can do is stare mutedly down at the prone, purple-haired girl. My laptop is just under her stomach, I mentally note. Her violet eyes lock with my own temporarily before they quickly avert down to the floor she lies on. I carefully look over her form and notice she's wearing an outfit similar to that of a certain character. A certain character from a certain game. _A certain game I've been thinking of all morning._ More particularly, I notice the uniform is _exactly_ like that of those from that game.

A brown blouse covers her from the neck down to her waist and a thigh-length blue skirt adorns her milky legs. Her locks of hair go all the way down to her ass, a shapely figure might I add, and it falls from either side of her face. Her eyes have yet to meet up with mine again. My lips flatten together as I very slowly piece together the situation. Sadly, my mouth doesn't quite match up with my brain.

"Why in the living fuck did a cosplayer break into my home?" Her face heats up, her cheeks tint an almost maroon red against her pale skin. Silently, in response, she lies still on the floor without an answer.

 _"So-sorry."_

Kind of.

* * *

 **Literally, just a spin-off/rewrite of "Everyone Else Is Doing It!" but featuring Yuri instead. _Obviously,_ it's going to go its own path instead of where I intend on taking the original piece.**

 **Bet some of you guys didn't expect that!**

 **Except you, DaMastah, as you're the guy who goaded** **— I'm joking, of course —** **me into this mess.**

 **Anyway, anyway. I want to apologize for the sudden hiatus I took. I'm moving out of state, just recently quit my job and just found myself in a sort of a mess. Things should be back to normal here, relatively, for a week or so. If I go off the grid again, just know I'm in the middle of a move!**

 **Anyway, that's that for, er, _that?_ As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Day 1, Part 2**

 **Prologue (2/2): Not The Right Choice Of Action**

* * *

I extend a hand down to the mysterious lady, her eyes continue to avoid mine as they take in everything else _but_ me. She doesn't say anything but her hand grasps mine delicately, almost in a refined manner. I heft her up quietly, lips pursing as I try and come up with something to say. _"A-ah, thank you... Weyland."_ I don't have to think up anything as she speaks for me. I — _hold up, what?_ Did she just call me — no. No, nope, there's no way. Must have misheard her; yeah, that's what happened. She's too quiet, obviously. I dip my head with a single nod.

The first thing I notice about her, now that she's standing at least, is that she's my height. I mean, it's not strange or anything. A lot of people I know stand at 5'7". Just something my brain felt worth noting, apparently. Shaking my head, I open my mouth once, only to close it again. A low _'hm'_ echoes from my throat. "I-um." Frankly, I'm at a loss for words. Just what do you say to a stranger who broke into your room? _What do you say when you just helped that stranger up?_ My mouth doesn't run off on its own, luckily enough. We both stand in front of each other awkwardly, the girl's hand begins to rub her arm as she shifts on her feet. Maybe she feels awkward she was caught trying to rob me.

That makes sense, right?

Well, it makes enough sense to me.

I give a quick shrug, the girl flinches before me as I do, and I reach back down into my pocket. "So, um. Yeah, I'm going to go ahead and dial Nine One One, that okay with you?" Why am I asking her if that's okay with her? At this point, it's the only thing I can grasp. I tap the three digits in once again and pause to look at her. The strange, purple-haired girl bites her lower lip, her eyes struggling to meet mine. I think nothing of it but as our glances finally lock, my fingers fail to meet the dial button.

A pleading confusion is in her gaze. It's as if she doesn't know where she actually is — _b_ _ut that's insane! She broke into my room, did she not?_ The cosplayer doesn't say anything, but I no longer feel the need to call the police. Honestly, it'd be too much of a hassle, anyway. I chew idly on my cheek as I mull over what to say to her but no words come to mind. _Still._ This has to be one of the most tricky situations that could have presented itself to me. How the Hell does anyone deal with _'casual break-ins'?!_

 _"S-sorry."_ She apologizes again, her eyes shifting away from mine once more. My face contorts weirdly and I wave it off. Do I feel... _do I feel bad for this girl? What the fuck?_ This is why I can't stand shy folk, they're impossible and I don't know how to work around it. I'll admit, though. She pulls off a _great_ Yuri impression. It's uncanny how well she is at this.

"Nah, nah. You're fine, must happen all the time for you, right? Getting caught, I mean." She's just a _really_ bad thief, go figure. Well, at least she's good at hiding her identity; her cosplay is damn near spot-on. I look down at my phone's screen and tap it back to life. "I'm not gonna call the police on you but I, ah, I'll be calling my brother." At this, her face snaps — okay, ' _snaps'_ is an overstatement; more like, ' _timidly looks'_ in my direction.

"I-I didn't know you had a brother, Weyland." Gone was her quiet tone and gone was my reasonable thought.

My fingers stop dialing Chris' number and I blink once. Twice. Thrice. _Okay, no. I didn't mishear her then._ This Yuri cosplayer just called me by my character's name. Something that has _never_ left my lips. How does she even know that name? Okay, maybe I talked about it to some of my friends — no, I don't talk to anyone besides my brother about my playing visual novels. Maybe she's just a fan of the game and like, I dunno, had the same wavelength as me when it came to naming our characters?

Definite no.

Maybe I'm going deaf and she's actually saying something else and I'm just assuming she's saying Weyland. Yeah, that one seems the most probable. Great, that means I have to get my ears checked. I click my tongue and give a sniffle. "Ah, yeah. His name's Chris," why am I telling her this? Function correctly, brain. "And, ah, what did you just call me?" Her ears tint red, her hand going up to the side of her face as she pulls a bit of hair away from over her eyes.

"No-nothing! I didn't call you anything, I swe-swear! Just-just your name, is all, Weyland." Confirmation at my doorstep, I back up a foot with pursed lips. Yeah, I'm calling Chris. Maybe he knows how to deal with this mindfuckery.

"Yeah, don't call me that. My name's Beck," I start with a shake of my head, clicking dial on my phone's numpad. I bring the plastic device to my ear and turn away from the stranger; I don't notice the look of confusion flash across her face. So, I've come to two conclusions; she's either crazy and thinks I'm someone named Weyland. _Or,_ the somewhat more reasonable option here, she hacked into my computer. By some means.

Is it possible to hack into someone's computer if they're not connected to the internet? Hell do I know, she must've leached onto me when I was at McDonald's or something. Part of me just prays she's one of them crazies — some of the shit on my computer is _not_ meant for others' eyes. VNs upon VNs, God I need a life. I sniffle again and listen to continuous ringing through the device. An audible _'click!'_ sounds from the other line, _"hnng... Foster Residence, who is it?"_ Ah, I forget. Time-zone differences.

I smack my lips together and fight back a low sigh. "Hey, Chris, it's Beck," I start, bringing my free hand up to scratch the back of my head. I begin to lean my weight into the door's frame, not bothering to look back at the stranger. I probably should, as she broke in, but things are awkward enough. If I catch her again, it might just make things worse.

A groan on the other end sounds and a heavy breath soon follows. _"Fuck, man... it's not even five yet. What is it that couldn't wait 'till later?"_ I choke back a chortle at the aggravation in his tone.

"Hey, ah... what'ya do when someone breaks into your home," no, that wasn't the question I wanted to ask. "Er, scratch that. What do ya do when a cute Asian chick breaks into your home?" Much better. I hear a light gasp from behind me but I still don't turn around to face it. Too much stress can kill a man, too much of a confusion induced-headache can do the same. Probably.

I hear the shuffling of sheets and sigh flow from the phone's earpiece. _"What? What's goin' on?"_ I roll my eyes despite the fact no one can see me do so. Of course the guy doesn't understand, I just woke his ass up. I glance backward despite my brain telling me not to and notice the purple-ette is red in the face. Must still be embarrassed about the whole getting caught situation. Hell, I would be if I was caught cosplaying and trying to rob a place.

Bringing my free hand back up, I pull back at my bangs with an exhale. "Exactly what I just said. There's this cute Asian chick," cue another gasp, "that broke into my home. That's not the weird part though," I click my tongue as my head tilts back, my eyes veering towards the ceiling in thought. "Y'know that game I was tellin' you about? Doki Doki Literature Club? Yeah, that's the thing. She's fuckin' cosplaying Yuri... at least I _think_ she is. It's pretty good, too. Bust size is proportionate, the face looks exactly-" I shake my head, I'm getting off track, aren't I? "Point is, dude. I'm just asking what I do here."

The only response I get is muffled movement and footsteps on the other end. Waiting several seconds, I open my mouth to continue but his voice cuts me off. _"I dunno, man. Fuck. She do anything to you?"_ Did he not hear the part about the cosplaying or is it really not that important? I give a shrug at his response, looking back to the girl... _who is now looking down to her chest, her hands cupping and prodding at her breasts._ A low _'proportionate?'_ escapes her and I wince slightly.

I almost forgot she is literally _right_ behind me. She doesn't notice my brief staring and I go back to looking into the hallway. "Eh, nothing really. Honestly though, I'm not even at the weirdest part yet. She called me by my name... er, not _my_ name, but my character's name. If _that's_ not weird, I dunno what is." Rushing water drowns my voice out and I can barely hear myself. Man, Chris, you are _great_ at not listening. "Nevermind! I'll call you about this later."

 _"Make sure it's much later, okay?"_ Oh, so you can hear that? Bastard. _"I've got work in a couple of hours, you waking me up ruined my plans on sleeping in for a bit longer. So fuck you, you owe me."_ I don't even bother responding, absentmindedly clicking _'end call'_ with a shake of my head. That did absolutely jack and shit with helping my situation. With a sigh, I pocket my phone and turn around-

-only for a set of arms to wrap around me suddenly. I blanch and take another step back into the hallway, inadvertently bringing the girl with me. The abrupt movement causes a whole mess of things and I fall back onto the floor, the girl landing on my chest. The cosplayer freezes, her face going an even deeper shade of red than before. Her body heats up considerably, I can feel it being beneath her and all. Her breath hitches loudly, an almost hiss sounds as countless _'sorry'_ s pass from her lips before-

 _Oh, Christ._

-her eyes roll into the back of her head, it dropping loosely on my chest.

I stare blankly at the ceiling from _my_ position on the floor, ignoring the dead weight on top of me. Why did she suddenly hug me? Did she try attacking me and I just turned around at the weirdest time possible? It was very ineffective, but still. She could've tried a little harder at best, I was distracted for Chrissake. Waitwaitwait, am I preferring being _murdered_ over this? This lady's gorgeous, albeit shy as all fucking Hell. I should be glad this turned out the way it did.

But I'm not. I push the unconscious girl off of me and roll to my front. With a slight grunt and a little bit of effort, I find myself back on my feet, staring down at the girl. I should have her explain herself when she wakes up. No, what I _should_ do is call the cops on her, but I _really_ don't think that's the correct path the take. Glancing into my room, she didn't pocket or steal anything, at least from what I could _see._ What was that term? Let sleeping dogs lie? I'll do just that... except in this case, let the sleeping _girl_ lie. On the floor.

In the middle of the hallway.

She's heavy, I'm not gonna struggle to drag her to my bed. Besides, wouldn't that just look bad if she woke up there? I don't want anyone getting the wrong idea. Who are the cops gonna believe, eh? The unconscious girl or the guy who lives in the sketchy apartment she broke into?

See what I'm saying. Lose/lose situation, this.

* * *

 **And thus ends the similarities between the two stories. It's going on its own path, fellas, and I _can't_ wait for you to see how this one goes! Seriously, this AU I have planned out is gonna be great.**

 **At least in my opinion, so fuck you. Joking, joking.**

 **Anyway, anyway! Just like how I'm doing a Yuri version, there's Natsuki's and Monika's coming out eventually! Although... no spoilers, here, Monika's is gonna be slight-no, _very_ different comparatively.**

 **Expect Sayori's next chapter to drop soon enough! (No idea when, as I'm on a flaky schedule as of now lmao, but soon enough!)**

 **Whatever, whatever.** **Ah, anyway, that's that for... er... _that?_ As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**

* * *

 _... Prepare for even more awkward scenes ahead._


	3. Chapter 3

**Day 2, Part 1**

 **Chapter 01: Not A Choice**

* * *

I can't do much in this situation; silently I stare down at the girl as she stares back up at me. I don't want to startle her, lest I have a repeat incident of the day before, and I certainly don't want her to turn this on me by calling the cops. So, yeah, I'm just... you know, staring. As I lean against my room's doorframe, I wait for her to say something, do _anything,_ to make this whole thing seem not as bad as it is. Sadly enough, I know I'm not going to get even that from her. "So-" her lips flatten and her attention diverts away as I start to speak; I roll my eyes, "-you good?"

Tentatively, her eyes lock with mine once again and she gives a slow nod. A calculating look forms in them for all of a moment before she slowly extends a hand outward. _Me thinks the girl wants me to help her up._ A brow raises to her and I scoff, extending my own hand to hers.

It's a soft, delicate thing. Almost as if she's never been rough with her hands in all her life. It's strange really, especially since this is coming from an attempted intruder and all that. You'd expect her to have like, scars and callouses all over them and whatnot... living around here, at least. I almost don't want to pick her up, solely for the fact that my own hands alone might blemish hers. _Wait, why the fuck do I care?_ I blink in realization and shake my head, pulling her up roughly, grunting in the process.

The girl's seriously a lot heavier than she looks, no offense to her or anything.

"Chrissake, girl. How much did those funbags cost you?!" I say despite my brain instantly telling me that was a bad idea. I immediately regret my choice of words, let alone the choice of what I said in general, and bite my tongue. Too late, I notice, the stranger's face goes a damning red once more and she stumbles over her words.

She blinks, glances down at her chest again, before turning around entirely. _"I-I... nothing!"_ Huh, almost seemed like I might get an answer there. Now, facing her back, I pull my hand to my face in a low sigh. I probably should have just called the police in the first place. A few days in jail would be better than dealing with this girl right now. And this is her after she _just_ woke up.

I really don't need this in my life. "Too bad, was genuinely curious too." _Shut up, me,_ "well, could you at least tell me why you tried breaking in, then?" I sniffle, turning back to the closed window in my room. Must be catching a cold or something. Looking back at the girl, her head is barely tilted to me, I can only see the corner of her face.

Which is still red, but at least she's not unconscious again. _"I-I didn't... I didn't break in, Weyland,"_ again with the name, _"I... oh, this was a bad idea."_ She mumbles to herself, bringing a thumb up to her mouth as she begins to nibble against the nail. Ew, by the way. _"I came... through a window."_ Again, I glance back at my window and nod.

"Yeah, I figured that much."

 _"N-no, not a window, but-but a..."_ she slows to a stop and takes a breath. I wait in mild anticipation, to see what story this cosplaying thief can fabricate. _"A transdimensional window."_ I blink.

I close my eyes.

I stifle a chuckle and instead nod my head. "Uhuh. So, a portal?" At this, the girl straightens her back and turns to me entirely; an intense gaze gathered behind her eyes and she almost looks different. A not so pleasant different, if I can add.

"Yes! A portal, a portal opened by some magicks or dark arts. I don't know, but I was allowed to come through, to-" Okay, hold up. I take a step back into my room and stare at the girl. What just happened? Where's the shy attitude? The stammering? Hell, even the constant going red in the face?! My expression halts her speech and she blinks.

"Uh, to...?" I urge her to continue, despite not really wanting her too. Maybe I should call an emergency therapist or something. Are those even things? _Emergency therapy; dial this number for help on the go!_ I shake my head, getting a little lost in thought for a moment.

The girl brings a lightly closed hand to her chest and she begins to stare at the ground. _"To... see y-you, Weyland."_ I raise both hands in defeat. The girl's officially crazy, at least that much is known. But she seems harmless—not counting the whole 'different person' thing. Maybe I should cut her a bit of slack, I don't know. First thing, I have to get her to say _my_ name. Weyland is starting to piss me off.

I may have liked using the name in games, but hearing me be called it? Entirely different story. I lower my hands and clap them together; the girl flinches a little at the noise, and I begin to speak. "Well, good on you, lass. You saw me, _Beck,_ now you can go back to, uh..." What if she's homeless? _Brain, I swear to God, if you make me feel for this chick._ Maybe she just needs a roof over her head and someone to set her on the right path. Obviously, she's young, younger than me. She could use the guidance. _Fuck you._ Plus, a roommate to help pay the bills is always good.

 _That's no reason to... fuck... I am so getting stabbed for this later._

"Ah... nevermind. You like pizza?" Fuck this stressful conversation, I'm hungry and I have cold pizza left. I'll hold off on asking her if she wants to stay, later.

 **. . . . .**

The microwave sends an alarm throughout the small living area and I huff. Pushing myself from the couch I found myself on, I hear a low tear sound as I do. _Goddammit,_ means more duct tape needs to be applied after I'm- _we're_ done eating. The purple haired girl has said nothing since our previous conversation and has only stolen glances at me every time she thought I wasn't looking.

I wasn't, but... I could _feel_ it. She just has this intensity when she's staring at me. It's fucking weird.

Whatever, I'm just hoping she isn't one of those "pineapple goes on pizza" girls. _That's_ a deal breaker and will _definitely_ insure her being kicked out. What? Just because I live in a run-down apartment, that doesn't mean I can't have some ground rules. Besides, it's _my_ apartment anyway. I shake my head again. Maybe I'm the one in need of help, my thoughts are so weird nowadays, I swear. I stop in front of the counter and open the malfunctioning time-bomb to reveal: two—one scalding, the other almost cold—slices of pepperoni and olive pizza.

Because she's the guest, I'll give her the scalding one. Cold pepperoni is a fate I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. I turn around and see the girl is already seated at my two-person table and something clicks in my head.

I won't be eating alone anymore. A smile threatens to break out on my face, but I put a scowl in its spot. Maybe she'll think I'm just jealous she gets the better piece. Here's to hoping I guess. I place the plastic—I am _not_ breaking another dish—plate on the table and sit across from her. It almost seems like an impromptu date.

Which it's not.

It's just two people, an apartment floor owner, and an apartment floor _intruder_ having a really weird breakfast together. The thought alone causes me to sigh. The girl across looks up at me with a questioning stare and a tilt of her head. I wave it off. "So, ah... you break into places often?"

Way to _break_ the ice. _God, kill me now and make sure Chris doesn't find my will._

 _"A-ah... truthfully, no and I, um... I didn't break in, I was-"_

"Yeah, you told me. Sorry, bad attempt at," _fucking Christ,_ "breaking the ice. Anyway, I, uh. I have a weird proposal for you." In hindsight, I should probably have chosen a better word. Proposition sounds good.

She almost appears to shrink into her chair; her pupils shrink as her eyes widen, her face goes red once again as she mumbles a single word under her breath. _"P-p-p...proposal?"_ Maybe I am deaf? Huh, should have that looked at soon. Regardless, I am so fucking thankful I couldn't hear whatever she said. Must have been pretty wild if it got _that_ reaction out of her. Hm, maybe I do want to know, now.

I blink, almost forgetting what I was going to ask, and look at her with a light frown. "Yeah, so it goes like this: I'm in need of a roommate, or an apartmentmate or whatever the fuck it's called and _you_ are in obvious need of a parental figure. Or a guardian. Or maybe just someone to slap you upside the head every time you want to do something stupid, like break into places." I don't think I'm getting across to her, she still seems to be fixated on whatever it is she's, well, fixated on.

I groan and lift my slice of pizza to my ajar mouth, taking a small bite out of it. I'll just wait for whatever's going through her head to pass, and _ugh_ I fucking hate cold pepperoni. I chew slowly with a grimace displayed over my face.

Again, I'm not exactly a patient guy. "Hey," I snap my spare fingers at her, to try and get the girl's attention. Luckily enough, it works for me and she blinks back into reality. "There ya are, was beginning to think it best to just dial for the police." No I wasn't.

She grows an almost ashamed look and I begin to regret my joking with her once again. _"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, I-I didn't mean for... I didn't mean to space out, I was just... thinking. Yes, thinking."_

"Obviously." I raise a brow, bringing the pizza back to my lips. I shake my head at her and swallow. "Okay, well, anyway, the fact of the matter is, I need a roommate. You need guidance. So, congratulations, you're officially my roommate and I'm officially your guidance counselor," thinking back to a certain brunette, I give a chuckle, nearly choking on pepperoni. "Here's Beck's first _'Guidance Tip of the Day',_ don't be a dumbass and break into people's homes."

 _"I-wh-what?"_

"Cool, just need your name so I can update my floor's tenant sheet."

She pauses, staring down at her untouched slice. A seemingly perplexed look flashes across her face as she looks back up to me, well, _through_ me to be precise. It's like she's shy or something. _"D-don't you remember Wey-, er... Beck. I-it's Yuri, m-my name is Yuri Akiyama..."_ She trails off, almost saddened by something. What, I'm not sure, but I am sure of one thing now, however. I'm dealing with a crazy.

I can work with this.

 _Probably._

 _Definitely not._

"Gotcha, so Samantha it is then."

* * *

 **Sorry folks, the usual happened. Hella writer's block struck me once again and this time is was harsh. I _barely_ felt the urge to continue writing _this_ of all things. I apologize, sincerely. I don't know how fast I am going to be at updates, but I'll try and be more on it. I also apologize if anyone seems OOC, it's been kinda hard for me to recall how I wrote everyone. Man, I have a _list_ of apologies right now lmfao. Okay, okay, last one, I swear. I'm sorry if the chapter isn't as good as the rest or even as long, I was just tryna transition through how she actually gets to stay there and all. Y'know? Unlike how I literally didnt even gloss over it with Sayori's version. Yeah, I didn't want to do that with this one. **

**Okay, I'm done.**

 **Here's to hoping I'm not struck with writer's block again any time soon** **—even though I know I will be.**

 **Anyway, that's that for, er... _that?_ As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**

 _ ***UNENDING, INTENSE, INTERNAL SCREAMING***_


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter Update - Chapter 3; minor update towards the end, please reread that before continuing on)**

 **Day 5, Part 1**

 **Chapter 02: Not Awkward At All**

* * *

 _"W-We-Beck... um, I don't mean to, a-ah, be a bother... though your alar-alarm is sounding."_ God fucking dammit, I can even hear her voice in my dreams. I thought while lucid dreaming, _I_ was supposed to be in control. Why can't I shut her damn voice outta my head? _"B-Beck?"_ I'm falling through the sky and that's literally all I hear. No wind rushing through my hair, no perpetual screaming as I'm falling to my possible death, just this girl's voice. It's pissing me off. "Beck, your alarm." Her voice is clearer now, much clearer and I can see why. Apparently, she jumped from the plane after me, which is _bullshit!_ This was supposed to be _my_ death dream. Not _ours._

Just leave me alone, I want to die.

Silence follows and I sigh, even as I'm plummeting towards the dreamscape earth below. Only a few thousand more feet to go and maybe I'll wake up without a headache for once. "Beck!" Or not.

I pull my eyes open with a glare, turning my head towards the doorway. "The fuck, Sam, I was tryna sleep."

 _"I-it's Yuri..."_ Stupid morning white noise. I swear, I hear it every time I wake up. Oh, wait, no, that's not a white noise. I'm only _now_ made aware of the blaring alarm to my left and my attention turns to that damnable machine.

My hand disappears from under my thin blanket, smacking downward on the mute button and I groan. "No, nevermind, apparently I wasn't." I really need to stop setting that thing before I go to bed. Fucking nightly habits. I roll on my back and go to bring my hands up to wipe away the sleep from my eyes, only to stop. Remembering Sam — or, as she keeps referring to herself as, _'Yuri'_ _—_ I peek an eye out from under the palm of my hand. "Thanks." She _'eeps'_ silently, bringing a fist to cover her mouth as she looks away from me and into the hall behind her. I roll my eyes.

 _"Y-you're welcome. Your alarm was-was going off and I heard it from downst-downstairs..."_ I give a nod to her, despite her not looking to see it. For the past, eh, three — _maybe four?_ — days, she's woken up before me. However, this isn't really a good thing as I've discovered. She's prompt and evidently, that means I have to be as well. No matter what time I set my alarm for, she'll make sure I get up by the time it goes off. There goes my usual two or three extra hours of sleeping in. I digress, the cons of having a roommate I suppose. Her head slightly turns to face me again, red tinting at her cheeks. _"I, I didn't think you would mind, s-so I made br-breakfast this morning..."_

I blink.

Huh, so maybe I won't have to deal with ash-cakes or liquid egg for onc-

 _"I, um... I don't know how to cook v-very well, but-"_ oh for fuck's sake, it's gonna be worse, innit? _"B-but I do hope you will enj-enjoy it, Beck."_ I give the purple-ette another nod and lean my head back down on my pillow. Groaning silently to myself, trepidation building in the pit of my stomach at the whatever possible meal she'd made for me, I wave her off with my hand. I'll see her when I get dressed and head downstairs.

She shrinks back a little but purses her lips slightly as she nods, turning away from my room. She pauses just after she takes her first step. _"O-oh, and good morning, Beck."_ She disappears from sight long before I could respond to her. I sigh instead and pull the blanket from my body, shivering blatantly at the lower temperature in my room.

I shake my head once before pushing myself off of my bed. "Shit, okay, let's get dressed then. Gotta long day ahead of us." I murmur to myself, bringing my hand back up to my eyes to finally rub away the morning crusts that had gathered. Part of me would want to go back to bed, but I know that she'll just see herself back up here to wake me up again. So really, there's no point in even trying.

A grunt and I'm on my feet; I wiggle and pop my toes, warming them up for the morning routine.

Step one: find a hoodie that _doesn't_ smell like ash.

 **. . . . .**

You know, I half expected my already shit kitchen to be burned down when I got down here. Instead, it looked actually nicer than I usually leave it. Huh, that's one pro so far for having a roommate, I don't have to clean shit. I give a low whistle as I stare down at the meal prepared for the two of us; an _actual_ pancake, one for each member of the household. So two. There's two panca- _God, I'm fucking stupid._ It doesn't look burned nor does it look like it'll fall apart the moment my fork touches it. Pleasant, I give a satisfied nod to Yuri, who, _shocker,_ blushes and offers a small smile in return. "Not bad Sam; thousand times better than what I could do with the stovetop. How'd you do it, anyway?" I question her, taking my seat across from the cosplaying girl.

She glances down at the two of ours' plates before looking back up to me with a small upturn in her lips. _"I, um... followed the directions on the package."_ I shut my mouth, prepared to say something, before looking at the pancakes myself before turning to look at the box still on the counter. My brows furrow and I suppress an aggravated sigh.

 _What the fuck? I follow the directions too and they come out looking like shit!_ I rant mentally before shaking my head. "Wow. Genius." I mutter, totally and accidentally sarcastically. A pang of hurt flashes across her face, but as quickly as it showed, she replaces it with a frown instead. I clench my teeth behind closed lips, "eh, sorry. No, I wasn't talking about you. I was just thinking about-" why do I feel the need to explain myself? "Nevermind, just thought of something beforehand, is all." Her lips twitch once and the delicate smile I've grown somewhat used to returns. I close my eyes and inhale the smell of _decent_ pancake. "I-it smells good though, really." If only I had the extra funds for syrup. _If only I didn't smoke, then I would have had them._

After berating myself, she lifts her fork slowly with her left hand and that leaves me to raise mine. "Ah, what do your folks say before a meal?" _Oh. My. Fucking. God. I. Did. Fucking. Not._ My eyes widen just after I finish the question and I gulp, slowly turning my peepers up to match hers; expecting to see seething contempt at the bigoted question, I blink in surprise as she giggles softly.

 _"Ita-itadakimasu, Beck."_

"A-ah, yeah. Right. _That..._ sorry, again." I all but whisper the last bit, feeling heat rushing to my cheeks. I lower my gaze back down to my plate and start wedging off a piece of my pancake awkwardly. I can still feel her staring at the top of my head, but I do my best to ignore it.

Way to start the day, you know?

 **. . . . .**

"Sam, where's the last of my coffee?"

 _"O-oh! T-that was yours, Beck?"_

"Well, yes, I _do_ happen to live here."

 _"..."_

 _"Sam."_

 _"I... may-may have drunk w-what was left to-to further wake up and pre-prepare breakfast..."_

"You didn't."

 _"O-of course, I wou-would have preferred Ool-Oolong tea, b-but..."_

"Oh my fucking Christ."

 _"Eep! I-I'm sorry! I-I-I-"_

"Not another word right now. I'm too busy dying inside to react properly."

 **. . . . .**

After my morning existential dread, I made peace with the fact that I won't be living on coffee for the next couple of weeks. Sure, it's a drag; sure, I won't be able to _not_ yell at people; sure, I may or may not be a little bit aggravated, but that's fine. It's fine. Everything's fine. I'm just, you know, sitting on my couch, arms crossed and glaring at the fucking wall, but it's fine. It's all good. All good in the hood.

I fucking need coffee.

I mean, _she didn't even ask!_ What kind of person doesn't _ask_ to make a cup of coffee for themselves?! Granted, I would have said no, anyway — 'cause, you know, _it's fucking mine! —_ but still, it would have been the respectful thing to do. Granted, _again,_ I was sleeping. So — fuck it. I'm moving on to another subject before I contemplate crying. Samantha, _'Yuri',_ sits on the other cushion beside me, wringing her hands together as she awkwardly glances between the wall I'm staring at and myself. I have half a mind to tell her to find something to do, but I'm sort of in the same boat as her.

This was one helluva day, so far. So many things have happened and I haven't even left the house yet. I know I'm going to have to, soon enough. Those clothes of hers, cosplay uniform or not, are going to start stinking up the place soon — more than it already does — and I can't have that. So, taking forty dollars from my cigarette money, I'm taking her to Goodwill. I mean, sure, it's hella cheap and probably a dick move, but I can't afford anything better right now. She's just going to have to deal wi- _"Beck?"_ Her timid voice reaches my ears and I pause my train of thought, turning to look at her, eyebrow preemptively raised.

"Yeah?"

She pauses, closing her hands tenderly and placing them against the hem of her skirt as she ponders on whatever she's going to say. Her violet contacts match my eyes and she bites her lower lip; I blink. _"W-where are your parents? Why haven't they come home?"_ I blink again. I stare mutedly at her for several seconds and her face flares up, _"a-ah! S-sorry i-if that was t-too forward, Beck! M-my apologies!"_ She panics, bowing on the couch to me, her hands clasping together as if she was pleading to a deity.

I blink a third time.

"I don't live with my parents." I simply state to the panicking girl and her constant teetering stops abruptly. I give a shrug and lean back against the couch, crossing one leg over the other as I do so. "Haven't for a few years, so if I were you, I wouldn't expect them showing up at my doorstep any time soon, okay?" I give a sardonic chuckle, leaning my head back as I turn it to look at her. "What brought that up, anyway?"

She doesn't respond to my returning question and instead, she opts to close her mouth as a crestfallen look paints itself over her face. To be honest, I'm glad she didn't delve too deep into my family matters. I don't think it'd be a good idea to bring it up right now, especially since things are still a little sore between the lot of us. I look at her as her mouth opens again, "how old are you, Beck?" Her following question doesn't have the usual meekness to it and instead it seems as if it were something that's been on her mind for some time now. I don't know if I should answer it, if I'm to be perfectly honest, _but,_ we are roommates and I get the feeling we're going to be roommates for a long time to come. So, I guess I understand her to want to be acquainted.

I bring a hand up to wipe under my nose, sniffling as I do so, and tilt my head as if I were to shrug again. "I'll be turnin' 24 come two months from now," not that I'm surprised, but I see shock flash across her features, "yourself?" The final question causes the girl to shake her head, pink stains her cheeks once more — and to be frank, I'm just getting used to it now, so it doesn't really phase me anymore.

 _"A-ah... 18,"_ okay, so I wasn't surprised when I saw her reaction to my age; _it's_ _the exact fucking opposite for hearing hers._ She's only 18? Jesus, I really hope I didn't come off as a creep to her when I — okay, no, there was _no_ way I didn't come off as a creep. I practically jumped the gun when I invited her to move in with me. Goddamn, _and she's fine with this?_ _"I-I will be turning 19 i-in a week..."_ _Let me reiterate, and she's fine with this?!_

Not only that, now I actually have to get her a birthday gift of sorts. What the shit even is my luck right now? How could thi- _wait!_ I got an idea, another idea that's almost as bad as the one where I invited her to live here. Except, okay, _no where near as bad, actually._ Maybe I can propose the idea of going to Goodwill or maybe bowling as an _early_ birthday present! That way, I _only_ have to spend the forty bucks I was going to put aside for her. Fuckin' genius, me! "A-ah, really? Since it's so close, I, ah, I got an idea that you might like..."

 _Shit, didn't think this through. Should I go bowling with her or Goodwill hunting?_

* * *

 **AHAH! I told you guys I had shit pre-written and this is only the _first_ of like ****— okay, so I only pre-wrote like, four things. Screw off, I didn't plan this out very well. But still, it's out and with this chapter...**

 **I leave you a choice; an interactive chapter, if you will. You guys can decide on whatever place he goes to as an _'early birthday present'_ for Yuri! I decided against this idea at first, but then it just stuck to me, y'know? So, yeah. As soon as this chapter's up, just go to my page and vote in the poll — which should be up directly after posting this — or comment your suggestion in the review area!**

 **Either way, I'm looking forward to writing whatever option you all pick (the other three pre-written things don't involve _this_ story, sadly).**

 **Oh, before I do my send off, I'd like to advertise _yet another_ entry to the Everyone Else series I have going on. Here's what we have in the catalogue so far:**

 ** _"Everyone Else Is Doing It!"_ The first to the series, starring Sayori as the transdimensional traveler!**

 ** _"Everyone Else Is Doing It?"_ The second and current one you're reading now, featuring Yuri!**

 ** _"Everyone Else Is Doing It_ " With none other than the tsundere-midget herself, Natsuki as a main character!**

 ** _And Upcoming: "Everyone Else Is Doing It."_ With, of course, Monikaaaaaaammmmmmm. How will she fare in a world where she doesn't have powers? Where Beck's best friend just so happens to be a girl? _Where I have the second most stupid plotline planned out?!_**

 **Okay, I'm done advertising lmfao.**

 **Anyway, that's that for, er, _that?_ As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**

 **P.S. Notice how I _entirely_ fucking skipped Day 2, Part 2 lmfao**


	5. Chapter 5

**(Updated: grammatical errors, OOC fixes, additional paragraphs/filler added.)**

 **Day 5, Part 2**

 **Chapter 03: Not A Good Idea, Actually**

* * *

It was against my better judgement; part of me knew bowling was a fruitless idea. Mainly, it wouldn't have exactly been longterm and, honestly, in the end, would have cost me more anyway. So, with that in mind, I'd decided it best for us to head to Goodwill; a cheap clothing and miscellaneous shop consisting of—mostly used—apparel items and such. Luckily for me, a strip-mall with one wasn't too far of a walk for us, just a little down the way, actually. Sam or as she continuously insists, _Yuri,_ wasn't too keen on the plan at first.

Until I brought up the factor of smell.

That went as well as one would expect. Especially with a girl like her. _Especially_ with a girl like her.

 **. . . . .**

"... an early birthday present kinda thing. Figured it'd be good for you to get out of that uniform-"

 _"B-Beck?!"_

"N-no, no! Not like that, ah, I meant heading to a clothing store! And getting you new outfits and such, eheh."

 _"I... I wouldn't have minded if it was for you..."_

"Beg pardon?"

 _"N-nothing!"_

"Alright? But, um, yeah. I've got around forty bucks we can spend on you, I think it'd be fun."

 _"I... um... I'm not t-too sure."_

"Come on, Sam-"

 _"Yuri..."_

"Sam, think about it. Do you _really_ want to be in that smelly old uniform for another day?"

 _"S-smelly?! I didn't-how could... n-no. I-I would like n-new clothes, please. If it-if it isn't a bother..."_

"Atta girl. I know just the place I can afford!"

 **. . . . .**

Thinking about earlier today, I chuckle mutedly as the two of us walk down the side of the road. We're not exactly right next to each other or anything, she's a few paces behind me as she mutters to herself, but I don't mind the quiet honestly. For some reason, I had this sense of deja vu and I got extremely annoyed earlier, but I'm glad that didn't last long. Especially now that we're making progress. With an empty road to our side, we can just mull over the last few days and, frankly, I'm enjoying it more than I thought I would. _Not gonna tell her that, but still._ She shuffles almost mutedly behind me; casting a glance at her now and again confirms as such.

Her face a light red, head hanging downward. Almost impossible not to notice, frankly. She turns her eyes up to me and I snap my attention forward again. Just checking up on her, is all. Right. _"Wey-ah... Beck, th-thank you. For-for this, I mean."_ Getting her—relatively—new clothes? _Not a problem._ Is what I _want_ to say, but I shake my head with a low chuckle. I turn my head to face her as we walk and give her a thumbs up.

"Hey, your birthday's coming up, figured I had to do _something_ for my new roommate," I say back to her. Her lips twitch, turning upward into a small grin on her face. "Least I could do," _literally._ She says nothing in response and we continue our midday dredging.

Passing by one of the older houses on the block, our midday dredging ends sooner than I expect.

Sam's steps fall silent and I turn to look at her with a rising brow; staring off to our left, my eyes follow her line of sight. "What? See somethi-" my mouth closes and my lips purse as I see what had stopped her.

A dead raccoon in someone's driveway. I shake my head. Yeah, it's a sad sight. Didn't know she was one to care for animals. Thinking about it now, it makes sense. Not knowing what to do in this situation, I move to stand next to her. It's patting her awkwardly on the shoulder with a "Hey," I start to speak. Her eyes meet mine and whatever words I wanted to get across to her fail to continue. She doesn't look sad or worried, no, just sporting a blank gaze. Before I can say anything else, she goes back to looking at the cadaver. I sigh, moving my hand from her to grab at my pack of cigarettes from the inside of my jacket. It isn't long before I move away from her to spark one. I can wait, not really like I've got anything else to do. I stare down the road as I take my first drag.

"It's sad, isn't it?" Her voice sounding so suddenly surprises me and I jolt somewhat. I look over my shoulder, the butt of the cigarette still between my lips, and look at her again. She hasn't taken her eyes off of the thing. "We're born. We live. We die. It's such a pitiful cycle; one that doesn't guarantee we will even live for too long." Her tone is empty, almost, but the slight slant of her lips tells me she's smiling despite the fact. She blinks and her eyes meet mine once more before her face goes a darker shade of red than before. _"A-ah, sorry! I was... zoning out. I didn't mean for-"_ she cuts herself off, her eyes lowering to my lips and I begin to almost feel self-conscious. My mouth doesn't look that weird, does it? _"Y-you're smoking?"_ She asks as she tilts her head.

I take another drag.

Raising my hand to remove the cancer-stick from my mouth, I exhale with a slow nod. "I-yes? Have I not smoked around you before?" That wouldn't make sense, she's been around for almost a week. I swear I would've lit one in my apartment by now. "Er, yeah, it's a bad habit, I know. The folks gave me a hard time as it was, I don't think I need to be hearing it from you, too, Sam." It still doesn't make any sense to me, but I digress. Maybe I got distracted? Wouldn't know. I pull the cigarette back to my mouth just as she takes a step forward. Her eyes don't leave the thing.

Standing right in front of me, she looks to me again. _"M-may I try?"_ I blink but shrug nonetheless. Exhaling, I flip it around in my fingers, holding the butt of it out to her. Cautiously, both of her hands rise and they grip at both my wrist and hand gently. Furrowing my brows, I stare in confusion at the girl for a moment before she moves her head forward. Placing her tender lips around it, I hear her inhale, almost as long as I do. She moves back, exhaling downward slowly. Her eyes shut for a second and a small smile crawls along the sides of her face. _"Thank you, Beck..."_ For what? Hell do I know, but I nod to her before placing the cigarette back between my lips. She glances at the raccoon one more time before moving to my left. _"Are we-are we ready to continue?"_ I nod and prepare to take a step forward, but something stops me. Again.

A shaking arm snakes its way around my mine.

I release both a sigh and a plume of smoke, shaking my head. "Hey, we can't have anyone getting the wrong ideas." I mean, she doesn't look underage or anything, but still. I'd rather not look like I'm dating a cosplaying burglar. I turn my head to look at her and her smile diminishes entirely.

 _"O-oh, I'm so-I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I'm sorry."_ I fight back a groan as she goes to unwrap her arm. Fuck's sake. Fuck's sake. Fuck's sake. Before she could pull away entirely, I lightly tug her back into me, intertwining our fingers. I just _sincerely_ hope she doesn't think anything of this. It's just to cheer her up. Yeah. I'll keep telling myself that. As I see her lips turn upward in the corner of my eye, I realize it might've been a little worth it.

The rest of the way is us sharing drags of the same cigarette. I never notice it starts to taste a little like vanilla.

 **. . . . .**

There's this roadside cafe on the way to Dewsbury's strip-mall. Dainty little place; been here longer than I've been alive probably, but it's still going. A quasi-popular stop for morning people on their ways to work. One can either sit in or use their drive-thru. I honestly only come here for a 16 ounce whatever-the-fuck-its-called after a night of drinking. Yep, Frapulous—a horrible name, but if I remember right, its original was worse—a decent joint for a cup of jo. And we're stopping there now because I can't go on like this.

I step through the open door, the bell sounds in the entirety of the small cafe, alerting everyone—like, three other people—to our presence. I breathe in deeply through my nose with a wide grin. If Heaven had a smell, I'd prefer if it was black; zero sugar. Yuri steps in just behind me and we allow the door to close on its own. A girl, probably in her teens, working the till looks up from her register and smiles, giving a polite wave. "Welcome to Frapulous; it'll just be a moment~!" I give her a nod before I look around for a spot to sit. An empty table right next to the window catches my eye and I make my way toward it.

Sam doesn't.

I turn my head and look at her, stopping a foot before my would-be seat and raise an eyebrow. "Sam?" The girl in question has her hand gripping her other forearm, her hair drooping over her eyes. She doesn't look up in response. I shake my head with a low sigh, approaching her again. "Sam." I try again, causing her to tilt her head up. Her cheeks seemingly radiate a pink glow. I chew on the inside of my cheek without a thought. One of those shy moments again. At least, that's what I _think_ it is. I don't know. I place my hand on the side of her arm and motion towards the table's direction with a shake of my head. She still doesn't budge. Her body only jolts at the contact and I pull my hand back. I begin to take in the emotions on her face, her eyes shifting anywhere else but mine. She's doing some chewing of her own, her teeth making an appearance now and again as she nibbles on her bottom lip. Okay, so maybe it was a _super_ shy moment? Fuck me. "Sam, it's just gonna be more embarrassing if you're just gonna stand there."

Saying this brings her back to life. Kind of? She blinks and shakes her head quickly—I can _feel_ the whiplash. She links our arms again, taking _me_ over to the table. What kind of backwards-ass logic is this? I _definitely_ don't know, but I sigh again and deal with it. _"A-ah, there's-there's an open spot."_ She mutters as she pulls me along. She's definitely being a little weird right now; maybe she's just not used to being in public? Oh.

Oh, God.

Not _just_ a cosplayer... a fucking NEET broke into my apartment. _F_ _uck me, it's too late to bitch about it now... she's already on the lease._ I grumble mentally. Soon, she lets go of my arm and takes a seat. Sam, forcing herself to, looks up at me. Still red in the face, I can definitely tell this will be a struggle of sorts. I shake my head. "I'll be right back. Gonna order us some drinks. Anything you want?" It's early enough for coffee, besides, they're cheap here. I can spend ten bucks for a couple of drinks.

Okay, _relatively_ cheap here, but still.

Sam opens her mouth, only to close it again. "Take your time, don't need to rush. We've got the rest of the day," I suggest as I begin to take off my jacket. I've got to wonder why I'm trying to look after this girl. She's 18— _says_ she's turning 19. What do I know about her, really? Her name is Yuri, supposedly. She likes long walks on the beach, , and her father got her into fishing.

Literally all of that could be true and I wouldn't fucking know it. The only thing I know that she likes is- _oh!_ I look at her and notice she's yet to say anything else and I nod. Good idea, me. "Oolong tea, right?"

Dead. Silence.

For all of two seconds, anyhow. _"Y-you remembered?"_ Did her face just get even more red?

"Er, yeah."

 _"I'm s-I'm so glad..."_

Needless to say, placing the order is probably just about the most normal thing I've done since she'd shown up.

 **. . . . .**

"Hey, Sam," I begin, taking a sip from my coffee as I look through the windows of Goodwill. I feel her shift at my side, her face turning to look at me. "Think y'all can wait here for a moment? I gotta stop by Smoketown real quick, grab another case of Marlbs." I look down to my pant-leg, ruminating on how much I have left in my wallet. I'm pretty sure there was a little under a hundred for smokes—yes, counting the bit I'd just spent. Regardless, I should be fine to buy one pack for now. "It's right next to here, so I'll just be in and out; dunno if you have your ID on you, so I'm not sure if you'd be able to head in with me." Turning my head, I catch her on the last motions of a nod.

She unfurls our connected limbs and stands, holding both of her hands over her thighs. _"I-yes, I can do that,"_ she mentions, looking downward. I can't see it, but I know she's smiling. Something turned her mood up from earlier, but I'm not sure what.

Ignoring it, I plant my hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. "Cool, don't go stealing anything while I'm gone, yeah?" I chuckle as she lets loose a light _'eep!'_ at the joke. I remove my hand and start making my way to the right, passing by Goodwill's entrance. As I do, the sliding doorway opens to a person exiting, but I only get a glimpse of brown hair before my focus is on the local tobacco shop.

Again— _three times, today. Are you kidding me?_ —I only get one last step in before something stops me.

"Beck?"

Or rather, some _one_ I haven't heard in a while.

"Oh my God, Beck, it _is_ you!"

Not since she left the altar.

"What's it been, two years?"

Not since she left him.

"Oh? Still smoking, I see. Such a bad habit, Beck, you really should kick that, you know."

For me.

"J-Jane?"

And like a fool who'd sell their soul for a cupcake.

"Holy shit, how-how are you? Y-yeah, it's been a while!"

I sold mine...

For her.

* * *

 **Welcome back to Chapter 5! Had a few things I needed to fix** **—length of it being the most important bit, and decided I could do it. So, bam, I did! Added _and_ fixed a couple of things:**

 **Added:**

 _ **\+ Yuri being thankful**_

 _ **\+ The coffee shop scene**_

 _ **\+ A fucking**_ **DRAMA _bomb!/Cliffhanger_**

 **Fixed:**

 _ **\+ The day (Originally Day 5, Part 1, but that was wrong seeing as how we already have one)**_

 _ **\+ A certain 'got' somewhere in the story that was pissing me off**_

 _ **\+ A few minor errors that needn't be pointed out**_

 **I'll be starting on "Everyone Else Is Doing It." featuring Monikammmmmm as soon as this update drops. So, expect it within the remaining days of the month! Can't wait 'till you guys see that. It's gonna be a blast.**

 **What else was there... eh, it's probably not important, but whatever. It'll pop up eventually, right?**

 **Anyway, that's that for, er, _that?_ As usual, you're all the best and I hope you continue to enjoy!**

 _ ***INTERNAL SCREECHING CONTINUES, ENDLESSLY***_ **One last thing! This may not be the final update for this chapter, seeing as how it's bred from someone tired all the damn time. Mistakes are, ah, very common, let's say.**


End file.
